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roosterforme · 5 months

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How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey.

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead.

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person.

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you.

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much.

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that.

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one.

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first.

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave.

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway.

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back.

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you.

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long.

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes.

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times.

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could.

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him.

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day.

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing.

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night.

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again.

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped.

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far.

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend.

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier."

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter.

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top.

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you?

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider.

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing.

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him.

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't.

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried.

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him.

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was.

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately.

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave."

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed.

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey.

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month.

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave.

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic.

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug.

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real.

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect.

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you.

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table.

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb.

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea."

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight.

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house.

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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starry-hughes · 1 year

Text

family in town

quinn hughes x reader, daisy's au!

summary: quinn's family comes to visit after daisy is born

au masterlist

this focuses more on quinn and you and the relationship with his family!

Quinn’s family flew out to Vancouver soon after Daisy was born. It was nice to have some family around, most of Quinn’s teammates were out of town for the summer, and it wasn’t like your parents were coming over anytime soon. Quinn knew that you were feeling upset about your family not speaking with you. He had tried to make you feel better by getting you flowers and reassuring you that you were doing a good job.

“Hi Mom,” Quinn hugged his parents as he picked them up from the airport. It was late July when they came to visit. Jack and Luke hugged their brother, giving him some gag gift about being a dad. “(Y/N) is at home with Daisy,” Quinn explained as he helped his brothers load the car up with suitcases.

His family was staying at a nearby rental house, the apartment would be a bit too cramped for everyone and a baby, but most of their time was spent at the apartment, just not for sleeping. You were a bundle of nerves, seeing the Hughes family for the first time in person since Daisy was born. “Are you two together now that you have a daughter?” Luke asked as Quinn was driving. Quinn shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, “No.”

Neither Quinn nor you had mentioned the exchange between the two of you in the hospital. Saying that you loved another person was a big thing. Quinn chalked it up to the heat of the moment, you two were both excited and tired when the words were exchanged. Emotions were high when you told him you loved him. In the two weeks that Daisy had been home, Quinn and you had been sleeping in the same room, sharing a bed, and watching the baby monitor together. But no discussion on what your relationship was held.

When the family arrived at the house, you were sitting on the couch. Ellen and Jim were excited to meet their grandchild after greeting you. “How are you doing sweetheart? Feeling alright?” Ellen asked sweetly. You nodded, “I’m good. Quinn is always a big help.” Quinn’s face turned red at the praise for him. “Let me go get her.”

“Wash your hands before holding her, please,” Quinn asked his brothers after you got up from the couch to retrieve her from the nursery. They groaned, “Dude, you’re like a hardass now.” You returned to the room with Daisy in your arms. She was wide awake, Quinn peering over your shoulder once you walked into the room. “Oh goodness, she has the same color eyes as Quinn,” Ellen gushed as you carefully passed her over.

As the grandparents doted over their grandbaby, Jack and Luke were trying to figure out who was going to get to hold her first. “I sent you flowers (Y/N)! Remember! I should hold your baby first,” Jack argued. “I sent a Michigan outfit! You know, the school Quinn attended,” Luke defended. You couldn’t help but smile to see Daisy’s uncles fight over who got to hold their niece first. “God, it’s like when Quinn and Jack argued over who to hold Luke first,” Jim mumbled. “Quinn, I think you should decide,” you patted him on the chest before sitting back on the couch.

The next couple of days were spent with Quinn’s family. Sometimes the boys would go play golf or have a workout so you’d be at the apartment with Ellen. “I remember how rough it was with everything after Quinn was born. Are you sure you’re doing okay?” she questioned as the two of you made dinner. “I’m okay, Ellen, I promise. You raised Quinn amazingly, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him.”

She stirred the sauce for the pasta noodles before speaking up again, “Has your family reached out?” Your energy obviously deflated a little and Ellen gave you a soft look. “Oh, honey.” She pulled you into a hug, letting you finally let out the tears you’d been holding back. “It’s okay, we got you now.”

When Quinn returned with his brothers and dad, he noticed something slightly off in you. His hand fell to your back as he leaned in. “You okay?” You hummed happily, “I really love your family Quinn. They love Daisy so much.” Quinn and you both looked over to see Luke carefully sitting on the couch next to Jack who was holding Daisy. “They love you too,” Quinn whispered.

On the last day of his family being in town, Quinn and you were hosting dinner again. For the duration of Daisy’s life, you had yet to leave Daisy. She went everywhere with you. Quinn’s hands rested on your shoulders. “I will be here. Nothing is going to happen to her,” he tried to reassure you. You were going to the grocery store with Luke for dinner ingredients. Quinn had been trying to get you to get out of the house without Daisy. “You will call if anything, and I mean anything, goes wrong and she needs me, right?” you asked. You didn’t doubt Quinn’s ability to be a parent, but you were just nervous.

“Sweetheart, I won’t let anything happen to her. She’s sleeping in her crib safely. You’ll be gone for maybe an hour,” he cupped your cheek, a sign of love from him. You finally gave in, leaving the apartment with Luke. The two of you were oddly close for barely knowing one another. Over your past Christmas trip, Luke made it known that he was extremely close with Quinn. Quinn loved how close you were with his youngest brother. He had also told you about how Quinn was growing up, telling embarrassing stories. Luke also made sure that he sent a Michigan onesie for Daisy when she was born. You would even text him whenever she wore the onesie or anything in Michigan colors.

Luke pushed around the grocery cart, letting you dump anything you needed into the cart. “Quinn and you are good parents,” Luke said randomly. “Thanks, Luke,” you smiled. “So when are you going to start dating and admit you are already sleeping in one room?”

When the Hughes family departed from Vancouver, you missed them more than you realized you would. Quinn and you moved around the apartment, cleaning up things while watching Daisy sleep in the bassinet in the living room. “I, uh, was thinking, maybe when Brock gets back from break, he can come to watch Daisy for a night. And we can go out on a date, maybe,” Quinn stumbled over his words.

You beamed at him, “Took you long enough to ask.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes au #daisy’s au!#nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #canucks imagine #vancouver canucks imagine

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 7 days

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New Rule: Whoa, Canada | Real Time with Bill Maher

And finally, New Rule. If we want to save our country, we should follow the advice good liberals have given for decades and learn from other countries.

Especially those beacons of progressivism like Canada, England, and Scandinavia, and I agree we should, as long as we're honest about the lessons we're learning. And as long as we're up to date on the current data. Such as, the unemployment rate in the US is 3.8 percent. And in Canada, it's 6.1. And of the 15 North American cities with the worst air pollution, 14 are in Canada.

I'm not citing these stats because I have it out for Canada. I love Canada, and its people, and always have, but I hate zombie lies. Zombie lies. That's when things change but what people say about them doesn't. Yes, for decades, places like Vancouver, and Amsterdam, and Stockholm seemed idyllic, because everything was free and all the energy we needed was produced by riding a bike to your job at the windmill. Canada was where all the treasured goals of liberalism worked perfectly. It was like NPR come to life but with poutine.

Canada was the Statue of Liberty with a low-maintenance haircut and cross-country skis. A giant idealized blue state with single-payer health care, gun control, and abortion on polite demand. Canada was where every woke White college kid, wearing pajama pants outdoors who'd had it up to here with America's racist patriarchy, dreamt of living someday. I mean, besides Gaza.

There's only one problem with thinking everything's better in Canada. It's not. Not anymore anyway. Last year, Canada added 1.3 million people, which is a lot in one year. The equivalent of the US adding 11 million migrants in one year. And now, they are experiencing a housing crisis even worse than ours. And we're sleeping in tents. The median price of a home here is 346 grand, in Canada, converted to US dollars, it's 487. If Barbie moved to Winnipeg, she wouldn't be able to afford her dream house and Ken would be working at Tim Hortons. And because of mortgage debt, Canada has the highest debt to GDP ratio of any G7 nation. I don't know what that means, but it sounds bad.

So does their vaunted health care system, which ranks dead last among high income countries in access to primary health care and ability to see a doctor in a day or two. And it's not for lack of spending. Of the 30 countries with universal coverage, Canada spends over 13 percent of its economy on it, which is a lot of money for free health care.

Look, I'm not saying Canada still isn't a great country. It is, but those aren't paradise numbers. If Canada was an apartment, the lead feature might be "America adjacent." And if America was a rental car, Canada would be "America or similar."

And again, honestly, Canada, I'm not saying any of this 'cause I enjoy it. I don't, 'cause I've always enjoyed you. But I need to cite you as a cautionary tale to help my country. And the moral of that tale is, "Yes, you can move too far left." And when you do, you wind up pushing the people in the middle to the right. At its worst, Canada is what American voters think happens when there's no one putting a check on extreme wokeness.

Like the saga of Canadian shop teacher, Kayla Lemieux, whose pronouns are she/her and those. Kayla is now back to being a guy named Kerry, but two years ago when "they" showed up to teach children, the progressive high school "they" taught at said that they-- They, the school, not the person. Really? You couldn't have found another word? We were using that one. Anyway, okay. They were committed to a safe environment for gender expression. Safe for who? What about the children? What about the equipment in that shop class?

You know, there was once a weirdo D-list movie producer in the '60s named Russ Meyer who made low-budget B movies like Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! And Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Always featuring women who look like this. His movies played in porn houses and were featured in Hustler and Playboy. Okay, fine, but who says, "No, when it comes to huge, ridiculous tits, let's save that for the kids."

And this is why people vote for Trump. They say in politics, liberals are the gas pedal and conservatives are the brakes, and I'm generally with the gas pedal, but not if we're driving off a cliff.

On the trans issue, America is no ands, ifs, or buts about it, absolutely alone in the world now. An outlier country. Last month, England's National Health Service announced that there's "not enough evidence to support the safety or clinical effectiveness" of puberty blockers for third graders, and that they were going to stop fumbling around with children's privates, because that's Prince Andrew's job.

So too with all the other good place countries in direct opposition to America's choice to affirm children's wishes on switching gender, no matter the age or psychiatric history. The Far Left, which always like to use, "Well, Europe does it." Yeah, no, that doesn't work on this one anymore.

Or on immigration. Sweden opened its borders to over a million and a half immigrants since 2010. And now 20 percent of its citizens are foreign-born and its education system is tanking, and it has Europe's highest rate of gangland killings. And one result is that the far-right parties are in the government now there for the first time.

To which liberals say, "Blaming immigrants for the rising crime rate is racist." Yeah, but is it true? Of course, it's true. It's not a coincidence. The quality of life went down after the Somali gangs started a drug turf war using hand grenades.

Calling it "racist" doesn't solve the problem. It hands future elections to someone who will solve the problem, and who, I promise, you're not going to like.

For the record, I've said literally all of this, including making the comparison of flying off a cliff if you rely entirely on the gas pedal. Just saying.

When Trump takes office again, and he will, people will act stunned and ask, "how could this have ever happened?"

#Bill Maher #Real Time with Bill Maher #immigration #gender ideology #medical scandal #Canada #Sweden #Somali gangs #medical corruption #religion is a mental illness

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teamfreewill2pointo · 7 months

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Visiting the Supernatural shooting locations Part 2

Please find part 1 here.

On our final day, we did Deer Lake and Riverview as the main viewing points.

The thing y'all gotta keep in mind is that there are so many locations, that we drove by countless of them just driving around, so I'm not showing you most of what I saw because I didn't get pictures of it all and also because tumblr wouldn't allow me to post so many photos.

That spot that's highlighted in Riverview? They shot 1x05, 1x10, 1x13, 1x18, 2x01, 2x19, 3x15, 4x06, 4x09, 4x13, 4x16, 5x04, 5x11, 6x10, 6x21, 7x02, 7x03, 7x10, 7x17, 7x21, and 10x09 there.

And that's just one building in Riverview.

It's a beautiful park and we got really lucky with the weather and it only poured rain for half of one day. Even with the bright light, it felt very creepy and I can only imagine how it would look and feel with fog or on a cloudy day. There were a lot of signs warning people not to enter the building or stay on the premises after dark.

A lot of the finale was filmed around Deer Lake. Unfortunately, the Burnaby Village Museum was closed because apparently it's only open to the public in the summer. We weren't able to visit there, but we were able to visit several other filming sites.

One of the things I noticed is that often episodes are filmed in clumps. For example, Regarding Dean was filmed in a few locations, but they grouped together the filming at the various locations to make it easier to film. The restaurant they went to was the Denny's near the motel they went to.

At this Deer Lake location, they filmed multiple scenes from the finale Sam playing catch with son, Dean's funeral pyre, the tree scene, the house the vamps broke into, Sam going for a run, and the pie scene, plus scenes from other episodes.

We found the tree where Baby was parked

which was in a slightly different location than the map said, but close enough that we found it easily. This place looked so different

But we're at a different time of the year and we're visiting 14 years later, so it's probably due to that.

One thing that I forgot to mention on the earlier post is that while Bobby's house is gone, the junkyard is still standing and an active business.

We had read online that the owner is very friendly, but it felt kinda awkward going in there and taking photos while people are hard at work. There's a giant dog that barks at you when you walk in.

One place I wanted to visit, but didn't get to was the Spur 4 Bridge where the finale ended.

There's a few shooting locations up there including the spot where Sam and Dean split up in 5.02 and the purgatory scenes in s15, but the Spur 4 Bridge is a hike since it's on a private road. Most people access it through the Fisherman's Trail

Although it's rated as easy here, someone who hiked it recently said that due to a rockslide, bring boots. You can also bike around it.

Since it was such a long hike, I decided to save it for next visit, when I'll plan a whole day around it. I also want to visit the place where they defeat Chuck, which is up in Minaty Bay and visit the area south of Richmond where they filmed Mystery Spot and several BM scenes.

As for getting around in general, the city of Vancouver is very bikeable and there's different bike rental options available. I don't know about transporting them between locations, but you can do this section by bike easy

We had a car, which enabled us to travel to a wide variety of sites and visit locations such as the Lulu Trestle (1x07, 3x07, 4x03, 4x13, 9x14, 12x22, 15x18).

Now you can get to the Trestle by public transportation, but it'll take you an hour from Burnaby Village Museum by bus versus a 16 minute drive. If you don't have access to a car, I'd focus my visit on the cities. At one point, we split up and I took the Sky Train from Burnaby to Westminster and it was very safe and easy. I also took a few buses to get to and from various locations. Vancouver was, in my experience, a very clean, safe city, with lots of public restrooms. Just don't continue going east of Gastown. There may be other parts that are unsafe, so if you are unsure, send me a PM and I can tell you exactly where we went.

I also recommend Salmon n'Bannock, which is an Indigenous restaurant that had some of the best food I've ever had.

Hope this helps! It was an amazing experience and I highly recommend that you visit. I'd pick out your favorite places before you arrive because there's so many places and it can get overwhelming looking at the map!

#supernatural #spn #spnfamily #sam winchester #jared padalecki #dean winchester #jensen ackles #spn family #castiel #misha collins #vancouver #spn locations #locations

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starlightandpinot · 7 months

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John wanted to protest, wanted to force Rodney to turn around, to drop off the rental car at the nearest Hertz and book them an overnight flight to Vancouver. If this were a mission, he could have even made it an order.

But this was also the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him that wasn’t the result of a life-or-death situation, or a snap decision made in the heat of battle. It was just… Rodney. Plain old Rodney, here on Earth, trying to make John feel a little bit better after a shitty couple of days.

Read it on AO3

#mcshep #rodney mckay #stargate atlantis #john sheppard #starlightandpinot #my fic #my writing #sga

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rentalsrufusart · 11 months

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Rent Film Props in Vancouver: Enhance Your Set with Authentic Props

Lights, camera, action! If you're a filmmaker or involved in the world of film production, then you know how important it is to have authentic props on set. Whether it's a vintage car or antique furniture piece, having the right prop can make all the difference in bringing your vision to life. But where can you find these items? Look no further than Vancouver Film Props Rental! With an extensive collection of cleared art for film and other unique pieces available for rent, we'll help take your project to the next level.

What kind of props are available for rent?

Vancouver Film Props Rental has an extensive collection of props available for rent, ranging from everyday objects to unique and rare finds. Are you looking for vintage furniture pieces to enhance your set design? Or perhaps you need period-specific items, such as antique radios or telephones, to transport your audience back in time. From modern-day office supplies to medieval weaponry, we have it all.

Our cleared art for film collection is particularly popular among filmmakers. We understand the importance of having authentic artwork on set and offer a wide range of styles and genres. Whether you're looking for contemporary pieces or classic paintings from renowned artists, our selection will help elevate the visual appeal of your project.

Additionally, we have an impressive assortment of vehicles available for rent - perfect if your production requires a specific car or truck model. Our inventory includes everything from muscle cars to vintage classics that will add authenticity and character to any scene.

No matter what type of prop you need for your project, Vancouver Film Props Rental has got you covered!

How to choose the right props for your project

When picking out props for your film production, it's important to consider a few factors to ensure that the pieces you rent will enhance your set and add authenticity.

Think about the time period and setting of your film. Are you shooting a historical drama or a modern-day comedy? The props you choose should match the era in which your story takes place.

Next, consider the style of your production. Is it gritty and realistic or whimsical and fantastical? The right props can help create a cohesive visual language that supports the overall tone of your project.

Another important factor is practicality. Will certain props need to be transported from one location to another? Do they need special care or handling on set? Make sure you select items that won't cause headaches during filming.

Don't forget about budget constraints. Renting authentic period-specific items may come at a higher cost than more generic options. Find ways to balance authenticity with affordability without sacrificing quality.

By taking these factors into consideration when choosing rental props for your Vancouver-based film project, you'll be able to elevate both its look and feel while staying within budgetary requirements.

Tips for working with prop rental companies

When it comes to working with prop rental companies, there are a few things you can do to ensure a smooth and successful experience. First and foremost, it's important to communicate clearly about your needs and expectations. Make sure the rental company understands what type of project you're working on, the style or era you're trying to emulate, and any specific props you have in mind.

Another tip is to plan ahead as much as possible. Many popular items may be in high demand or already reserved for other productions, so give yourself plenty of time to browse inventory and secure the props you need.

It's also important to read through the rental agreements carefully before signing anything. Make sure you understand all fees associated with renting the props, including delivery and pickup charges.

Additionally, take care when handling rented items during production. Some props may be fragile or delicate - treat them with respect and follow any guidelines provided by the rental company.

Don't hesitate to ask questions or seek guidance from your prop rental company if needed. They are industry professionals who want your project to look its best!

Conclusion

Renting film props in Vancouver can be a fun and exciting process that can help enhance the authenticity of your production. With so many options available, it's important to take the time to carefully choose the right props for your project to ensure they align with your vision.

When working with prop rental companies, remember to communicate clearly and effectively about what you're looking for. Don't be afraid to ask questions or negotiate pricing if necessary. And always remember to properly credit any rented props in your final product.

By following these tips and taking advantage of Vancouver's wide range of cleared art rentals and other film props available for rent, you can create a truly unique and memorable production that is sure to leave a lasting impression on audiences.

#Vancouver Film Props Rental

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charlesandmartine · 11 months

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Tuesday 13th June 2023

Well, we had planned a lot for today and we knew it might be tough. Early start; hotel breakfast, then shuttle bus 1 mile back to the airport to buy a Canadian SIM card and then collect the rental from Mr Alamo. He kindly let us have a very nice Audi A4 in tasteful black. Now as motorists, we were able to drive to the ferry terminal at Tsawwassen to travel the 95 minute straits across to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island where we shall tour until Saturday.

The image I had was an island similar in size to the Isle of Wight. Absolutely not so, VI is 283 miles in length and 63 miles at its widest point. Named after Captain George Vancouver of the Royal Navy who explored the Pacific Northwest in the late eighteenth century, it is the world's 43rd largest island and Canada's 11th largest island. We intend in the limited time available to us to explore just a little of its beauty in the next few days.

After collecting a rubbery chicken and some sauv blanc we checked in for a couple of nights at our first Airbnb close to Lake Cowichan. A vast and beautiful lake some 3 square miles in size, sitting comfortably within broadleaf and Pine forests. Our lodgings are indeed most acceptable with one exception. Unloading the car of the groceries and rubbery chicken, we became aware of a herd of free-range birds of the same variety but very much alive. The leader of the gang was a bruiser of a cockerel worthy of a starring role in Chicken Run or Chainsaw Massacre. He took an immediate dislike to us and flew at us like a banshee, feathers flying, feet claws and beak working as choreographed road-drills taking chunks out of the leg department. We straight away complained to the host and now the said bird is incarcerated behind barbed wire whilst we are left applying a balm of savlon on wounded areas. Apparently he's a rescue bird! Clearly has more severe mental health issues than previously diagnosed on the psychiatrist's couch. The host was mortified vis-a-vis and produced within a very short period of time gifts of compensation.

The countryside here is glorious, and we shall spend time tomorrow exploring more of it.

ps the property has a bear fence surrounding it. If bears should go berserk, I doubt we packed sufficient savlon!

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springgirlwaiting4fall · 2 years

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Falling in Love 1 Story at a Time

An MJF and OC Novella Chapter 3

Brie

Stop being so stupid and just pick something, Brie thought to herself. It had been a little less than a week since she last saw Max and she had to leave in 20 minutes to pick him up. Usually when she had to fly somewhere she just threw on whatever but today she wanted to look cute.

She didn’t want to admit why but she knew the reason for it. It started out after he had dropped her off. Her brothers told her that he had watched her get inside and she thought it was sweet of him and knew he had to drive almost another 2 hours, so later that night she texted him to say thanks and made sure he made it home okay.

He replied back and than they kept texting each other. It started out as silly memes, than pictures of Maxs cat Piper and of her dog Mick. Which turned into them talking about everyday things. And on Saturday and everyday after that talking until one of them fell asleep.

Brie finally settled on a short romper and sandals before grabbing her bag, kissing Mick, and getting into her car.

When Max got into the car, Brie wasn’t sure if the car ride was going to be silent or comfortable. But they quickly were able to come up with conversation, laughing, and playful arguing all the way to the airport.

She watched as Max took the lead in the airport, talking to the employees, carrying her bags and getting them into the frequent flier private lounge for free.

It was a long flight to Vancouver, so together they watched a movie together. Afterwards Brie tried reading her book but slowly drifted to sleep.

Max

Max felt Bries head fall onto his shoulder. Normally this would annoy him and if it was anybody else he would have pushed them off right away. But he liked the way Bries weight and heat felt on him and everyoncein a while she would let out a deep breath and sigh. It was adorable.

What wasn’t adorable though was how Bries romper slide down some and he could see right down it. He didn’t want to look but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing down once or twice especially when he snuggled in closer to him and he saw her tits covered in a blue bra. He had to turn his body and pretend that she didn’t exist.

It was easier said than done when at one point she dug her nose into his neck, moaned and whispered “Jesus max. You smell so good.”

He had to go over all the names of mid west wrestling from the 70s and 80s to keep himself from getting hard.

Eventually she woke up, her face pink with embarrassment and whispered “sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He felt his voice go deeper it sounded unusual and tried to play it off by cleaning his throat.

The plane landed and Max carried his own and Bries Carry on bags. Vancouver airport was huge, like a maze, and very crowded. Without thinking twice he held Bries hand to keep them from getting Separated. This time she didn’t freeze when he touched her.

They had to cross a road in the airport to get to the car rental place. Outside it was raining and even though it was May it had to only be in the 40s. He was in jeans and T-shirt and felt the chill, he looked over at Brie who was shivering.

He opened his carry on and took out his old High School Football Hoodie, without a word he put it over Bries head. It was so long that it covered her whole outfit and made it look like that was all that she was wearing. And seeing her in his clothes made him think primal thoughts. He was thankful that the drive to the hotel was only a short drive away.

#aew #aew fanfiction #mjf #mjf aew #mjf fanfic #maxwell jacob friedman

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greenbagjosh · 1 year

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Vancouver and Chilliwack April 2003

22 - 24 April 2003

Hi everyone! This weekend 20 years ago, I visited Vancouver, BC, Canada, for the second time. I spent two nights in Vancouver's Davie district, sort of west of downtown Vancouver. It was also the first time I rented a car on my own, in a foreign country.

Salut à tout le monde! Ce week-end, il y a 20 ans, j'ai visité Vancouver, BC, Canada, pour la deuxième fois. J'ai passé deux nuits dans le quartier Davie de Vancouver, un peu à l'ouest du centre-ville de Vancouver. C'était aussi la première fois que je louais une voiture par moi-même, dans un pays étranger.

I flew on Friday 22nd April from SFO airport's Terminal 3 by United Airlines. I had booked a first class seat with a 500 mile coupon. The flight took off about 5 PM nonstop to Vancouver. I think I arrived about 8 PM. When I landed, it was in the US terminal where prechecks going back take place. I had to go through Canadian customs. They asked their nosy questions similar to the last time I was there, April 2002. I was admitted into Canada, then I went to baggage claim and retrieved my suitcase. I went through the "Nothing to declare" green lane.

Once I retrieved my suitcase, I went to the Hertz car rental desk. They had my car ready. It was a 2003 Oldsmobile Alero (in Europe this was sold as the Chevrolet Alero). This one had a 3.4 liter V6 engine, 4 speed automatic transmission, and an AM/FM/CD player radio. I did not really need a map for the most part, as I had been to the youth hostel on Thurlow and Burnaby Streets once before. Parking it would be a challenge, but the hospital nearby had parking.

I drove up Grant McConachie Way to Granville Street. After Granville Island, BC route 99 split off into Howe and Seymour Streets. I went northeast on Seymour Street, to Davie Street and turned left. I went to Thurlow Street and turned left, then turned onto Burnaby Street. Back then, there was no plan to build what is known as the Canada Line. I noticed that some of the signals, that had flashing green signals, which meant mainly the same thing as a steady green. When the light was to change, there would be four seconds of steady green before the light went yellow. When the red cycle was over, the light would flash green again and repeat the cycle as necessary. That is something that happens in British Columbia, I have not seen that in other provinces in Canada.

I checked into the hostel, and deposited my bags in my room. I had a single room, right next to the elevator. My room was not ensuite, there was a shared bathroom down the hall. I had to park the car at St. Paul's Hospital. The car park allowed long term parking, so it was okay to park there overnight. Parking in Vancouver is much more difficult that most cities in the USA. I think it was about $20 US to park for two nights. Once I parked the car, I walked to Thurlow Street, then Davie, and to Bute Street. I remembered Hamburger Mary's (now it is called Mary's on Davie), so I went there. I thought about going to Denny's but I passed on that. In Canada, the apostrophe of Denny's is the red maple leaf. McDonald's has something similar in its corporate logo, with a red leaf in the center. I ordered a large hamburger but was unable to eat it all for some reason. I left enough fries as well. The waiter gave me a hinge container, I think a 9 by 6 by 3 inches (22 by 15 by 8 cm) and I took my food to the hostel. The hostel had a communal walk-in refrigerator, and they provided a permanent marker to mark whose food belonged to whom, and what their checkout date was. If there was food in the refrigerator and the guest had already checked out, it was put on a special rack for "free food". The hostel did not provide breakfast back then, so people had to cook their own. After I went to my room, I went to sleep. It was not high season, so it was fairly easy to fall asleep.

On Saturday 23rd April, I woke up, took a shower, went down to the kitchen to collect my hamburger and fries, then walked to the hospital to get the car. I stopped at a Blenz coffee shop, to get some coffee. Blenz is a coffee chain in British Columbia similar to Starbuck's, has few, if any, locations outside of British Columbia. I drove along Davie Street to Denman Street, up BC route 99 to Stanley Park Drive and the totem poles. The previous year, 2002, I had visited the Indigenous Art Museum at University of British Columbia where they had a massive collection of totem poles. The ones at Stanley Park were okay, not particularly spectactular. I liked the view of the Vancouver skyline better. I was able to see Canada Place across the harbor. The weather was nice then. I bought a few gifts for my family at the gift shop. I finished my hamburger, fries and coffee before driving onwards.

After leaving Stanley Park on the north side of the island, I went north on the Lions Gate Bridge to North Vancouver. I ended up in the Capilano Indian Reserve. I turned right on Marine Drive and drove east on Third Street and eventually Main Street. I crossed back into Vancouver by the Trans Canada Highway route 1 which went through Burnaby and Abbotsford. The speed limit was 100 km/h. All highway distances were in metric. After Abbotsford, the speed limit increased to 110 km/h. I planned to go only as far as Chilliwack. Chilliwack was named from the indigenous word Ts'elxweyeqw. The highway was very nice. I played a CD in the CD player. It was mostly of music I had recorded from November 2002, including a few German songs. It felt odd to play German music in Canada.

Once I arrived in Chilliwack, it looked very similar to a small town in the USA, with the main difference being, instead of the Stars and Stripes, it was two red rectangles, and a big red maple leaf on top of the white rectangle. I stopped at the McDonald's on Luckakuck Way, and ordered a hamburger and a small Coke. The hamburger tasted just like the ones I had in the USA. I drove to downtown Chilliwack and wanted to see the murals. One of them stood out to me and it was the decades from 1930 to 1990 or so.

About 2 PM, I drove west on the Trans Canada highway to Vancouver, turning off at Hastings and driving on to St. Paul's Hospital to park again. I walked to the hostel and asked for a day pass. They sold me one for $8.00. I went to the Shoppers Drug Mart, nearby and bought a 2 liter bottle of Sprite Ice. Sprite Ice is basically Sprite with mint flavoring. I rode on the line 6 to Seymour Street, transferred to the line 4 or line 7, and went to the Granville Skytrain station. Back then, Skytrain did not have fare gates. Skytrain stations Granville and Burrard, both have the eastbound platform on the lower level and westbound platform at the upper level. I took the Skytrain to Gastown, which would require a walk from the Waterfront station. I walked a few blocks along Water Street to the whistling steam clock. I watched the clock strike 3 PM. I wish at the time, that I had a working video camera. That would not happen until a year later.

I walked to the Victory Square Cenotaph at Victory Square, and drank some of the Sprite Ice from the bottle that I had in my bag. I walked down Cambie Street and BC route 1A to the Stadium-Chinatown Skytrain station. I took the Millenium Line to Loughheed Town Center. I remember the Millenium line only went as far as Braid, but on 31st August, the line was expanded to Commercial/Broadway. I spent about an hour in the Town Center. It was not much more different than the average shopping mall in the USA.

Due to its location, it was hard to accurately keep track of time, and the sun set later than in California. I took the Skytrain from Loughheed Town Center to Granville, took a bus to Robson Street and then fou a place to eat for supper. It was a Japanese curry restaurant. I ordered a donkatsu curry with udon noodles. It tasted excellent. I had a bubble tea, I think, matcha flavored. Then I walked back to the hostel.

When I was at the hostel, I took my radio and recorded some music. The radio I had was not the Aiwa HS-JS 479 that I brought the previous year, but it was a portable one with digital tuning and 2 inch / 5 cm speakers. Its cassette playback had the "Q-Sound" function to play prerecorded cassettes. I recorded some French and also some English programming. On one of the French stations, I recorded "Tous les palmiers" by the Quebec band Beau Dommage, and "Un homme et une femme" by some unknown duo, definitely not the original ones from the 1960s, definitely not Mireille Mathieu either. I went to bed soon after that.

Sunday the 24th April, I had to wake up and get breakfast. I had a coffee and pastry at Blenz Coffee on Davie Street. Then I checked out of the hostel, took my luggage to the car, and drove south on Granville Road to the airport. However there was one problem. I needed to fill up the tank, and I was not able to find a reliable gas station. I had to drive to Richmond, just a little south of the airport, to find some place that sold gas. Gas in Canada is more expensive than it is in the USA, and is sold by the liter. I drove along Number 2 Road, then Francis Road to Number 1 Road and found a Petro Canada station. I put in about 20 liters, which was not bad for a V6 and maybe 200 km of driving. I drove back to the airport and checked in the car. I noticed a few totem poles before going into the airport terminal.

Checking into my flight to Seattle and then San Francisco, I was not allowed to hand in my checked bag until I cleared the USA customs. I had to give my passport at customs before dropping my bag off. After dropping my bag off, I went to the gift shop and bought some salmon and maple syrup. The flight to Seattle was on an Embraer E120 twin propeller plane. It would be about an hour away from Seattle, and land in Concourse N. I would not need to collect my bag until I arrived at San Francisco airport. I would have to wait until about 2 PM to board the flight for San Francisco.

At 1:30 PM, the flight to San Francisco would board. I had an economy class seat. The flight home was not too long. I arrived about 5 PM. Somehow the flight had misplaced my checked bag, so I had to fill out a form for them to deliver my luggage to my home. I took the Line 292 back to Hillsdale and Norfolk Street in San Mateo, and walk the rest of the way home. It was not too far to walk. It must have been 7 PM when I arrived home. I made some supper, probably spaghetti or something, watched some TV and went to bed.

The next day I drove to work, worked from 7 AM to about 4 PM. I had some maple sugar candies to share with colleagues. My suitcase did turn up at home, a little bit after I had left work for the day.

My next overseas journey would be in late July 2003. Hope you will join me then!

Also, in May 2003, my car (at the time it was a 1997 Jetta with diesel engine) was all paid off and thus free of finance, and I received the title, what a nice early 31st birthday present.

Good night! Bonne nuit!

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